


Heart Baiting Speed Dating

by NoContractTermination



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friendship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoContractTermination/pseuds/NoContractTermination
Summary: Ten coerces Doyoung into joining university-sponsored LGBTQ salsa night, where Doyoung meets Jaehyun and gets himself involved in an unwelcome existential crisis.





	Heart Baiting Speed Dating

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is a continuation of a Johnil university AU I wrote a long time ago, but there aren't obvious connections or dependent plot points so you don't have to read that to understand this!
> 
> \- Jaehyun appears in here for like 0.02 seconds; it's more of a Doyoung-centric featuring the other characters in the tags.

He ended up hearing about the salsa class from a trembling Moon Taeil, who looked partly anxious and mostly regretful of every life decision he’d made that brought him to this moment. 

"Out with it," Doyoung demanded; there was a problem set due on Monday and knowing Ten, it’d be accurate to say Doyoung wouldn’t be getting much done tonight. Friday nights were prime time for videogames, spontaneous heart-to-hearts, two-person drinking games— basically anything other than work.

Taeil took an exaggerated breath. Given how Taeil was, he probably needed it. "So Ten invited Youngho and me to some salsa class he’s teaching next week and I was wondering if you were going because I’ll probably go if someone else I know is going well besides Youngho I mean because like we’re probably going to have to change partners and it’s going to be super awkward and I really _really_ did not sign up for this when I agreed to date—"

"Okay, slow down," said Doyoung, putting his hands on Taeil’s shoulders and meeting his wide-eyed gaze for a moment before Taeil nodded, breathed out, and looked down. Things like this happened pretty often; between two awkward, wide-eyed, antisocial college students, it’d be a miracle if they made it two weeks without having some sort of mutual mental breakdown.

After a moment, Taeil rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, I was just. It’s making me nervous just thinking about it. Oh god, what did I get myself into."

"Okay, first of all, this is the first time I’m hearing about it," Doyoung wondered aloud, more to himself than to Taeil. With the integrity of he and Ten’s otherwise functional relationship on the line, not being formally invited stung a little. And then Doyoung remembered how many parties he’d been to in the past year (zero) and how many times he’d ever danced in his life (zero) and how he’d rate his enjoyment of dancing on a scale of 0 to 100 (zero). 

"Oh," Taeil said bemusedly. "But Ten’s your roommate, so I thought—"

Doyoung laughed. "He probably just figured I’d say no and didn’t bother to ask," he said, waving it off. Taeil offered him a subtle little pout of sympathy anyway. Taeil was hopelessly constipated at _expressing_ his emotions, but he sure could read Doyoung like a picture book, which made him both powerful and vulnerable. Doyoung had to keep an eye on him, but it was mostly just fun taking care of Taeil— it felt fulfilling, like raising a small animal or a house plant.

"That is actually… exactly what happened," Ten said when Doyoung demanded an explanation for not being the first to be invited to salsa class. Ten didn’t seem like he had it in him to lie. "I thought you hated dancing?"

"I do," Doyoung replied remorsefully.

Ten must’ve sensed this, because he clapped his hands together and said, "Of course you’re absolutely welcome, though!"

Doyoung should be getting out more. The excessive comments about Doyoung’s perfectly normal lack of social life had decreased in frequency since he went to college, probably because the only people he really interacted with were people like him. There was nothing wrong with college kids, until they huddled together in stupid groups based on social convenience and conspired to willingly drug themselves with alcohol and aggression. And then suddenly there was no future, and world was invincible, and even the laws of physics’ mandated strongest pulls of the universe couldn’t stop you. And then there were the piles of sweaty bodies undulating like one big mass, like soggy, melting tar under the desert sun. There were the smells of weed and regret, until you habituated and stopped being bothered by the fact that you were slowly dying. Doyoung shuddered. Now seemed like a really good time for an Advil.

"It’s not what you’re thinking," Ten said frantically. He wasn’t wrong. "Promise."

"How do you know," Doyoung said sadly.

"Because I’m teaching it!" Ten said, grinning. "Not a party. No alcohol. It’s school-approved, you know, student gov stuff. Totally legit."

Ten knew how to get Doyoung. Student gov always weakened him, nostalgic for his middle school days as student body president and Completely In Control Of His Life. "Why are you so involved in so much stuff already?" Doyoung asked, kicking Ten’s shin lightly. 

Ten laughed. "Dunno, I mean, I heard it was hard for transfer students to make friends, so I’m making an extra effort. It’ll be really chill, it’s hosted by the LGBTQ office. We’ve been trying to come up with a good name for it, but for now it’s just LGBTQ Salsa."

"That actually makes me feel marginally better," Doyoung said, not sure if the rumbling in his stomach was excitement or nausea, and Ten grinned in response.

"It’s not _No Heteros Allowed_ , but we’re, uh, being pretty low key about advertising it in their… spaces."

"Goddamn it, Ten, why are you so cool?" 

Ten laughed, flopping onto his bed with a high jump and digging his laptop out from a worn leather bag he carried around with him. "I bask in your heartfelt praises. Please, carry on."

Doyoung smiled, lying down in his own bed and staring at the ceiling while slapping around for his misplaced statistics textbook. The conversation was satisfying. Talking with Ten was satisfying. Or humming with Taeil as they worked on their separate assignments in some patch of shade in the quad, or texting Jeno from back home and helping him with the odd math question. Life wasn’t _that_ bad. It was just a little bad. Because Doyoung wasn’t some tall well-built varsity basketball player supermodel who sailed through school with little effort and charmed people with a stellar personality. But those were just society’s rules, and were there really people like that out there? Probably not.

—

He was going to kill Ten. He was going to murder him in his sleep. They lived together; how hard could it be? He might have to change his identity and flee the country afterward, but the feeling of Ten's cold, dead body in his hands would be worth the hassle. He'd burn the evidence and hitch a ride on a cargo ship headed to Japan later that night, and he'd start a new life as a secretary or contractor, someone low-profile who absolutely did not murder his roommate in a past life over a disagreement involving amateur ballroom dance. Not at all.

He was going to kill Ten— that is, if he didn't die from embarrassment first. Or become the first known case of willing his cells so hard that he became plasma and melted right into the ground and became one with the planet.

"To be honest, I'm a little shy about being here," Ten announced, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Doyoung glanced around the room, and most of the students were absolutely eating it up, Ten's cheeky little smile and small, baggy stature. Taeil and Youngho were in their own little world, as usual. Ah, young love. "So if I could call my roommate _Doyoung_ up here to help me demonstrate some moves?" Ten continued, glancing at Doyoung.

"I... don't really dance," Doyoung said, hands stuffed in fists in his pockets and mouth wide open in the shit eating grin he had honed down to a science at this point.

Ten didn't budge. This fucker. "Even better," he said brightly, beckoning Doyoung over with his hand.

"If I may be so bold as to ask, _how_ is this 'even better,'" Doyoung hissed in Ten's ear after he'd trudged to the center of the circle stiffly.

Ten deliberately ignored his question and just murmured, "I'll lead, don't worry."

"Oh, I don't think I'm the one who needs to be worrying right now," Doyoung said through gritted teeth. Ten's hand on the small of Doyoung's back faltered and jerked Doyoung forward roughly. It was mildly satisfying but didn’t get Doyoung out of this predicament.

The height difference between them made it awkward as hell. Doyoung’s collarbone was about level with the top of Ten’s head, which made Ten have to reach up conspicuously to hold the back of Doyoung’s shoulder. Everyone was staring because it was supposed to be a demonstration, but could they be a little less obvious about it? Especially that tall guy on the opposite side of the crowd with a preppy-looking girl just about glued to his equally preppy-looking arm. He was glaring daggers at Doyoung, except those daggers were actually made of cotton candy, and the guy’s smile was gentle and glittering. And, oh shit, he was totally smiling _right at Doyoung’s face_.

"You’re really stiff!" Ten said as if in wonder.

"I told you I don’t dance," Doyoung said lamely after an awkward spin that Ten managed to save by the hair of its back by catching Doyoung and miraculously making Doyoung’s fall look intentional. They were met with applause, and Doyoung’s gaze kept flicking over to the guy from before as Doyoung attempted to melt back into the crowd inconspicuously. It wasn’t working.

—

"Salsa" turned out to be more like speed dating for people who didn't want to admit they were speed dating, even though about a third of the participants had come with significant others.

They lined up and had about a minute or two with the other participants before moving on, like some giant convoluted square-dancing ring. They barely had time to introduce themselves; usually one of the pair said their name, babbled on for a bit, and then it was time to switch partners. And Ten oversaw this all like like a pleased ringmaster, not really understanding that not everyone had the level of energy he did. Doyoung wondered briefly how Taeil was faring in this throng of people of varying skill levels and genders and ages, but then the tall guy was in front of him suddenly, blocking his vision and dulling every circuit wired to his brain.

"Hey," he said in a voice that was frustratingly husky and breathless.

Doyoung grunted in reply and grabbed the guy’s hand. His palm was soft, and his knuckles were a bit dry, and his warm hand wrapped around Doyoung’s, which was cold to the touch from chronic poor circulation. 

His grip was a little too strong, but Doyoung was also pretty good at losing his own balance, and the tall guy made up for that by tugging him along, propping him back up into place. "Don’t take so many steps," he whispered, making Doyoung falter and push himself back, because _whoa_ , when did they get that close to each other, and why did it feel so natural? 

"You’re going too fast," Doyoung hissed. It was more like the rest of the students were too slow, just beginners stumbling to a quick-paced choreography.

"I’m just following the beat of the music," the guy pointed out, and Doyoung gritted his teeth. So he had musical sense, too. "Besides, you’re keeping up."

"Not because I _want_ to," said Doyoung. He flicked his gaze up for a moment and met the guy’s shit-eating grin. "I’m just saving face."

"Hm," the guy said evenly. "With your looks, I don’t think you need to worry."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Doyoung said, relaxing a little. Here was something he could do: verbal banter. 

The guy seemed to take it well, chuckling. "Good point," he managed to get in before they were pulled apart from each other by time, and Doyoung found himself actually a little regretful.

—

"I'm Jaehyun," the tall guy from before said, approaching Doyoung with infuriating dimples and an outstretched hand. "Are you taken?"

"Yeah, taken for granted," said Doyoung, pointedly looking past Jaehyun at Ten, who was making friendly with Jaehyun's girlfriend and a few others.

Jaehyun laughed and Doyoung ignored him. It was actually difficult _not_ to look at Jaehyun's face— it was magnetic, the kind of face you wanted to get lost with so when you looked around and found each other in the crowd you'd feel a surge of pride. It was the kind of face you wanted to show off, a trophy face, soft and comfortable. Doyoung gritted his teeth. "Really," said Jaehyun, sounding amused, but who knew because it wasn't like Doyoung was looking at him, or near him, or anywhere in his immediate vicinity. He really wasn’t. Not at all.

"Yeah, Ten didn't even thank me for agreeing to make a fool of myself in front of this school's entire queer dating pool," Doyoung replied.

"No, I meant," said Jaehyun, "I try to come onto you and you talk about Ten?"

Doyoung stuck his tongue out, finally looking fully at Jaehyun in a challenging glare. "Joke's on you, I don't date straight guys," Doyoung said.

Jaehyun blinked for a moment, his eyebrows going up just the slightest. They were nice eyebrows. Thick and fluffy. "I'm not— if I were straight, why would I be here?"

The girl he was with before bounced up to them then, slinging a knapsack over her shoulder and glancing from Jaehyun to Doyoung. Doyoung gestured vaguely toward her and looked at Jaehyun and said, "Then, care to explain??"

Jaehyun looked at her curiously for a while, as if confused, while she stared up at him with fiesty challenging eyes, kind of like how Ten would look at Doyoung sometimes when Doyoung got something for him on a high shelf. " _Oh_ ," Jaehyun said finally, and Doyoung had a vague feeling he was about to hear something he really didn’t want to hear delivered in the most polite way possible. "She's my baby cousin, Herin," Jaehyun said. "Lives around here and wanted a campus tour." He ruffled her hair and continued, "She's looking into the dance program here, so I brought her to this class thinking it might be fun, and she could meet some of the upperclassmen."

"Ten is a riot," she chirped, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis a little, the view of everything shifting to the side like at the eye doctor's office when they switched the lenses and asked you which was clearer, A or B.

Doyoung was probably an idiot. Melting into the floor seemed like a good idea— again, you know, just draining into the cracks between planks of wood and seeping right into the dirt. He must've been looking at Jaehyun with that deer-in-the-headlights face as Ten called it, where he widened his eyes and let his mouth fall slightly agape, emitting some weird mishmashed sound of concern and mild judgment. Jaehyun was quick to put his hands forward soothingly and say, "I can see where you got that, though, you know. Coming to a dance class with a girl and all, I mean, two attractive people together—"

Doyoung tried to scoff, though it came out more as a wheeze. "Don’t kid yourself," he said, crossing his arms, and Herin laughed.

"You kinda had that one coming," she said, punching Jaehyun's shoulder lightly, and every interaction between them seemed to remind Doyoung, as he slowly melted into the floorboards, how familial (read: very obviously _not_ romantic) their relationship was. Herin glanced at her phone and said, "Oh, my parents are outside. I’ll see you around some time, um, Doyoung."

"Good memory," said Doyoung when she left, his gaze following her through the imposing doors then flicking around the room. He looked anywhere but at Jaehyun, who was grinning at him like he was some mix of a small animal and a luxury sports car his parents just gifted him. Doyoung looked at the floor, sparing a glance at Jaehyun’s shoes. Basketball sneakers, worn out, well-loved. "Arrogance doesn’t really suit you, you know," he mumbled.

Jaehyun hummed. "So is that a yes?"

Doyoung drew a breath and finally looked at Jaehyun’s face. Between his glittering eyes and laugh lines and dimples like two rivers running down his chin, Jaehyun looked genuine— innocent, even. The confidence, though charming, had an air of uncertainty to it magnified by the blasé attitude of a college freshman. "It’s a no, actually," said Doyoung.

Jaehyun’s expression visibly faltered, which was so, so satisfying.

Doyoung grinned. "I mean no, I’m not taken."

And as fun as watching Jaehyun’s smile go through different amplitudes of sincerity was, there was something to be said about his body language, the way he danced, the way he held open doors, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. That, and Doyoung really wanted to beat Ten to getting a boyfriend. 

Doyoung watched absently as Jaehyun's fingers swiped across his phone, adding his contact info. The area code indicated that Jaehyun lived in a suburb close to the large city, on the east side, while Doyoung’s family was farther, from the west. Herin wasn't the only one with a frighteningly good memory. Actually, everything about Doyoung was frightening. He'd been told that on many occasions. Jaehyun, who was just about the least threatening person ever, didn’t seem to be affected. Doyoung gave him about three weeks. "Text me," Jaehyun said, handing Doyoung’s phone back to him.

"Okay," said Doyoung, and it took way too much self-control not to do it right then. Would that seem weird, or desperate as fuck. He was vastly under-qualified for this whole dating thing, and not letting that show was the top priority at that moment. Especially after the whole dancing debacle, and then the whole Herin disaster, and if the evening could possibly get any worse, notwithstanding his whole success in the boyfriend department, it would be if Doyoung said or did another incredibly stupid thing. "I have to go," said Doyoung awkwardly. 

Jaehyun hummed in response, and it was low and meaningful and it glittered.

"To the bathroom," Doyoung said. Nice one. It got Jaehyun’s attention. That was probably Not Good. "In class!" added Doyoung. "Right. Now."

Jaehyun bit his lips, making his face look like a dimpled ball of dough. His smile was half sympathetic, half condescending. Doyoung found himself already walking away. If his mouth wasn’t really working, at least his body knew what he wanted. "See you," said Jaehyun, and Doyoung stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling for his phone and the secure little feeling that with it, Jaehyun never really quite left.

—

From: Doyoung  
To: Jaehyun  
[10:12PM] see you loser

From: Jaehyun  
To: Doyoung  
[10:15PM] How’s your night, taken-for-granted ;)

From: Doyoung  
To: Jaehyun  
[10:26PM] my what

From: Jaehyun  
To: Doyoung  
[10:28PM] Night?

From: Doyoung  
To: Jaehyun  
[10:34PM] ok good night :)v

—

The first person Doyoung thought to tell outside of the people who were actually there to experience it (Ten, Taeil, and by extension Youngho) was Jeno, firstly because high school kids were cute and generally lacked malice, but mostly because Doyoung didn't have any other friends and Jeno had no affiliation or future investment in this school or its students. Jeno immediately texted _JUNG jaehyun??? hang on i'm facetiming you right now!!!!!!!_ and okay, that was sudden and Doyoung hated talking on the phone, but then Jeno's smiling little face appeared on the screen and Doyoung panicked and pressed the green button because Jeno was a Good, a Yes, like the color green. Doyoung cursed his reflexes as he waited defeatedly for the call to connect.

When the video feed popped up, Jeno was off camera and there was instead a view of his messy but uncluttered bedroom, with another student sitting against the bed and scribbling on a binder. "Who's the pretty boy?" Doyoung blurted when Jeno's face appeared. The best defense was always to go on the offense.

"Oh, Na Jaemin from class 2-C. I'm tutoring him," Jeno said mildly, then added, "But this conversation isn't about me— dang, I knew Jaehyun would be going to your school, but I never thought you'd meet, much less _hook up_."

Doyoung groaned. That didn’t work. Jeno was too upfront to be manipulated, and attempting to dodge the bullets would probably just make it worse. "You make it sound like some trashy telenovella."

"Okay, I didn’t expect you to start _courting_ ," Jeno said with a wide grin. "It kind of is like a trash telenovella, anyway."

Jeno had been following Doyoung’s life since the beginning of high school, when the volunteer committee assigned Doyoung to help the middle school Jeno— who was extremely smart at math— with his surprisingly dismal history grades. Jeno was kind, smart, and hardworking, but notoriously bad at time management, which was coincidentally one of Doyoung’s strengths. Now the tutee had become the tutor. Doyoung felt oddly proud and resisted the urge to cluck like a hen. "So you two know each other?" said Doyoung instead, and Jeno nodded eagerly.

"We faced his school a couple times in Mathletes. You know, that club you said was too nerdy for you, Mister _Statistics major_ ," Jeno said, jeering in that friendly, cheerful way of his. "He was really smart, looked like captain for their team. We still text sometimes. Did you know he also plays basketball?"

Holy shit. "Holy shit," Doyoung said, and Jaemin snorted from behind Jeno.

"I know, right?" continued Jeno, drumming his fingers. "Talk about overachiever. Hey, you two should get along great then."

Doyoung was about to retort something back when he realized it was a compliment. Jeno had a way of doing that sometimes. "There are overachievers," Doyoung said, "and then there are people who are just perfect."

Jeno was quiet for a moment after that, as if contemplating something. "I dunno," he said then. "You’re pretty perfect yourself."

"Haha," said Doyoung without emotion. "Thank you, my ever-faithful student."

"I’m serious," said Jeno. "You sell yourself short sometimes, hyung. I know that’s like your _thing_ , but it’s only funny to people who don’t really care about you."

It’s funny to me, Doyoung was about to say, but Jaemin whined, "Jenoooooo," from across the room. "I did the thing you said but I’m still not getting the right answer."

"Anyway," Jeno said, a little brighter, "I gotta go. I expect details about Jaehyun. If you don’t tell me about it, I’ll just ask him instead."

Doyoung clenched his teeth. "That little demon rubbed off on you," he muttered, just as Jaemin appeared over Jeno’s shoulder.

"Jeeeeenooo," he said, latching onto Jeno’s shoulder with a little sniff, saying "So you _do_ think I’m pretty—" just before Jeno hung up.

—

Things were going reasonably okay, as okay as they could’ve gone for two college kids who both scheduled six classes that semester and were planning to dive headfirst into the courseload. For some reason, Jaehyun seemed to enjoy Doyoung’s offbeat brand of texting that ran the whole gamut from halfhearted insults to ignoring him for days to flaking on date plans with the excuse of chronic headaches since childhood. There was a grain of truth in that, but the headaches stemmed mostly from stress. Doyoung couldn’t help but feel a little bad when he cancelled for the third night in a row and hunkered down in his bunk to get his mind off things with the company of sweet, sweet R-squared values. 

According to his therapist from two semesters ago, Doyoung was eternally stuck in either fight or flight mode with no in between. Most people landed somewhere in the middle and tended toward one or the other, but it was like Doyoung went so far toward one end that he ended up coming out the other side, too. Jaehyun’s existence was starting to exacerbate this all over again in exchange for the admittedly pleasant sense of enrichment he brought into Doyoung’s life simply by merit of being there for him, always just a text away.

Tonight was another one of those _i’ll get back to you but thanks!_ nights where Doyoung was starting to get suspiciously ahead on his schoolwork when Ten stumbled into their dorm at 1 in the morning, piss drunk, slurring in Thai, and being half dragged in by another (presumably Thai) kid. "You must be Doyoung," the other kid said, and suddenly Doyoung didn’t want to know what other tea Ten might’ve spilled.

"Just dump him, he’ll be fine," Doyoung mumbled into his pillow. 

Ten let out a little squeal after his body hit the floor but seemed otherwise okay, and the kid was gone and it was suddenly just the two of them. Doyoung was about to fall asleep when Ten let out a loud yawn like a dog. "Sooooo, how’s it with Jaebooboo?"

"Go to bed," Doyoung groaned. "Please."

"Rude," said Ten, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. "After all I did for you."

"You did jack shit, Ten," said Doyoung flatly.

Ten made a displeased noise that was starting to get familiar. "Excuse you, I went to all that effort to set you up, and—"

Doyoung shot up in bed. "You _what_?"

Ten was rocking back and forth now calmly. "Oh, that was a secret. Right."

"But—but you weren’t even going to—" Doyoung sputtered, holding his finger out stupidly. " _Ugh_ , whatever, you’re drunk, I’m going to bed."

"It’s not what it sounds like, promise," Ten said, still alarmingly calm for something that would’ve set him off if he were sober. "Well, it kind of is. But not exactly. Let me explain."

"If you’re not going to explain in three seconds, please stop talking."

Ten hummed, and Doyoung suddenly found himself missing Jaehyun out of pure self-pity. "Um, it might take longer than that."

"Then _please_ stop talking."

It wasn’t that Ten wasn’t a thoughtful kid, because he really was. He sometimes made hot chocolate for Doyoung even though it was really fucking hot outside and he offered to fold Doyoung’s laundry because folding laundry was relaxing for him. It was just that setups inherently broke one of the fundamental laws of friendship physics which was not to in any way undermine your secretly insecure friends’ autonomous achievements. Setups confirmed that everything you put out there out of pure instinct to impress was unnecessary from the start, doubling down with the implication that your friends _pitied_ you and established that you were somehow unable to get by on your own.

There might have been a grain of truth in it. Doyoung always felt beat down the most by the things that were undeniably true. He told himself he wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, but Youngho and Taeil’s happy little snow globe held in front of him just out of reach made it painfully apparent that it was much easier sharing the burdens of the world with someone at your side. 

Doyoung had never experienced this before. 

Doyoung had always been self-reliant. 

He wasn’t _mad_ at Ten, he was just willfully avoiding him because looking at Ten reminded him that when it came down to it, the only reason he was so self-reliant was because he was so doubtlessly, noticeably alone.

He could run. He could murder Ten and run, though it wouldn’t be as easy now because some goody two-shoes basketball-playing good-looking math nerd had his number. Taeil had it before, but Taeil probably wouldn’t have done anything even if he’d known, although Youngho's existence kind of complicated things. 

Everything was up in the air during these beginning few weeks of sophomore year, and although nothing was going particularly wrong, it still felt shitty, like a carefully constructed card house Doyoung had spent years perfecting suddenly collapsing because someone looked at it wrong. It wasn't that he didn't trust people, he just liked to get things done in the most efficient way possible, which was alone. 

"So you don't trust people," Taeil summarized, and Doyoung pursed his lips. "I wouldn't blame you, though. I mean, you're pretty good at most things."

"You flatter me too much," Doyoung said.

"I'm sorry," replied Taeil, looking so genuinely apologetic that Doyoung had to laugh. They were lying on Doyoung's bed, Taeil smushed against the wall where he liked it and Doyoung taking up most of the bed with his legs basically spread eagle. Doyoung's laptop stared back at them, propped up on his pillow like a king surveying his court. They’d pulled up a list of restaurants in the area: a meager selection of bars (Jaehyun probably wasn't old enough to drink), fast food (Doyoung was cheap but not _that_ cheap), and university dining halls (why were they even considered public restaurants??).

After much debate and inner turmoil, Doyoung came to the decision to act as serious about it as possible, because if he was going down, he was gonna go down fighting. He’d make this the best fucking date Jaehyun would ever go on. 

"Where did you go with Youngho when you dated?" Doyoung asked, and Taeil shrugged.

"We didn't... really. We don't go out much," said Taeil. "Sometimes we went to the grocery store together."

Sometimes it felt like his friends were miles ahead of him in every aspect of life, even the mildly dysfunctional ones like Moon Taeil. Ten was a given— he found fortune in the most unlikely places, or he manipulated people into coopting their pride for his widely sought-after presence. But Taeil, Taeil was a small bean, a fellow houseplant sitting on the windowsill with Doyoung and keeping busy by taking up inconspicuous space. Unspoken laws of the universe stated that things came naturally in sets of twos and threes: Taeil was the one who blended in and never wished to leave much impact on the world, and Doyoung edged out slightly in front and protected him. 

Doyoung was happy for Taeil, he really was, even if Taeil’s soul seemed bent on attracting Doyoung’s least favorite types of people. But Taeil was leaving him. Taeil couldn't leave him, not now, because now Doyoung was alone again. That was what was so frustrating about it— Doyoung tried so hard, _too_ hard maybe, that people assumed he was better off on his own. And for a long time, that was what he assumed, too. "That is sickeningly adorable," Doyoung stated, and Taeil ducked his head into his arms. 

"Um, Youngho just isn’t really functional there if I don’t go with him," Taeil sputtered, but it was obvious that he enjoyed it. "I mean," said Taeil softly, "proper dates don’t have to be your thing, you know. Being chill is cool, too, right?"

Doyoung snorted. "Yeah, god knows we’ve been chill for pretty much the entire past year."

"Exactly," said Taeil, somehow completely missing the point. Doyoung almost felt sorry for him, but Taeil was so incredibly nice that Doyoung honestly forgot what point he was even trying to make. "You don’t have to impress him, Doyoung."

Doyoung gave Taeil an incriminating look. "Have you _seen_ him?"

Taeil responded with a warm smile, and it was Super Effective. "Have you seen you?"

Doyoung’s heart fluttered a little. Seo Youngho was one lucky bastard. Doyoung rolled onto his side and stared at the space on the wall above the both of them. He was in a self-pitying mood, which usually came in stages of self-deprecation, excessive outward criticism, then alcohol consumption. Taeil wasn’t picking up the hint. "Ten set me up."

"Oh, you found out," Taeil mused, and Doyoung’s face contorted into a stinky expression that Taeil smiled gently at, threatening to melt the very depths of Doyoung’s frozen heart. It was working.

" _You_ knew about it too?" said Doyoung incredulously, though he couldn’t be mad at Taeil for long. In fact, his heart's allotted be-mad-at-Taeil time was already over. "But you’re not— you’re not evil. You don’t lie."

Taeil hid his chin in his folded arms, eyebrows furrowing in thought. "Did you think Ten wasn’t being… completely serious in trying to find someone for you?"

"I don’t need anyone," Doyoung said defensively, but Taeil stood his ground.

"Who are you trying to convince, Doyoung-ah?" said Taeil, and Doyoung squinted with a frown. Taeil sighed. "Ten, me— we all know you better than you think we do. And we care about you."

"But you left me," Doyoung said in an uncharacteristically small voice, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

"Doyoung, I’m still here," said Taeil, stroking Doyoung’s shoulder softly. Something about Taeil’s touch was calming and sincere. Doyoung’s shoulders slumped, and he sniffed a little. "I think maybe you should talk to Ten," Taeil said, uncurling from his space beside Doyoung, and then the bed suddenly seemed too big and cold.

"But I’m kinda ignoring him," whined Doyoung. 

Taeil kneeled beside Doyoung’s bed. "You and I both know there’s a very simple solution to this."

"I can’t just _stop_ ignoring him."

But Taeil was already backing away, a silly little grin on his face. "Good to know we’re on the same page."

—

Doyoung had been ignoring Ten for like two days and it was already setting in, that feeling of when you ignore someone too long and it just becomes easier to keep ignoring them. It was a mixture of pride and shame and consternation— they went hand in hand, like those annoying pedestrians that walked three abreast on a narrow sidewalk. It usually didn’t happen this quickly, but Ten’s presence was so substantial that it left a gaping, Ten-shaped hole in its wake. 

"Ten," said Doyoung, but Ten still lied with his back turned to him, breathing evenly. Doyoung sighed. Oh, how the tables had turned. " _Ten_ , I know you're awake."

Ten didn't budge.

"Look," Doyoung mumbled. "I'm sorry for not talking to you. And I'm glad I went to your dance class. I had a good time. Even if it was a shitshow."

Ten shifted, then started shaking. Little snorts came out from under his covers and— was he _giggling_? "Man, I thought I was gonna fall asleep from how long you held out on me there," said Ten, who was very much not about to fall asleep.

"You dick," said Doyoung weakly, and Ten laughed.

"Yes, I take pride in it," he replied.

This was how they settled things, and Doyoung saw no point in changing it. He was suddenly very grateful for having two friends like Taeil and Ten, who contrasted each other in complementary ways. Taeil was like a marshmallow, and Ten was like a bouncy ball. The dynamic wasn’t perfect, and they would never melt together into a cohesive, homogenous unit, but that didn’t really bother Doyoung. After a comfortable pause, Doyoung said, "Ten?"

Ten fake-yawned. "Mmm?"

Doyoung sighed and rolled onto his back, unable to look Ten in the eye. He opted for staring at the ceiling instead, a massive black abyss that matched the depths of his soul. "Am I ready for a relationship?"

"What brought this on?" Ten said. He shifted so that his head was propped on his elbow.

"I dunno," said Doyoung. "They say people can’t love someone else until they love themselves."

"Bullshit," Ten said immediately. "I mean, Youngho has like three pairs of Timberlands but he’s still very loving toward Taeil."

Doyoung snorted. "I open my heart up to you, and this is what I get?" To be fair, the opening was too good. Ten never missed a chance to slander Youngho's fashion.

"Okay, okay, I still stand by what I said, though," said Ten. "Complete bullshit."

Doyoung wasn’t convinced. Not that Ten was particularly convincing, but he had quite a developed sense of insight at times, even if the way he translated it to words was kind of bizarre. 

"I mean," Ten continued. "You’re talking like, long term here. We all know how capable you are on your own, Doyoung. And I’m sure Jaehyun is, too. You don’t need to piece each other together, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to live a little."

"That was…" Doyoung started.

"Ingenious? Poetic? I know," said Ten.

"… surprisingly coherent," said Doyoung, and Ten huffed.

"I’ll take it."

—

To: Doyoung  
From: Jaehyun  
[9:57AM] Im taking you out for breakfast. be ready in 10min!

To: Jaehyun  
From: Doyoung  
[9:58AM] dude what the fuck

To: Doyoung  
From: Jaehyun  
[10:00AM] 7 minutes

To: Jaehyun  
From: Doyoung  
[10:00AM] I’m going to kil lyou

"You never replied," Doyoung grumbled when Jaehyun showed up at his dorm at ass o’clock on a cloudy Sunday morning when not even the birds could bring themselves to wake up. 

"Figured I’d give you as much time as possible," Jaehyun said with his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. "You look cute."

"I don’t appreciate empty flattery," lied Doyoung, and Jaehyun kissed him on the nose unexpectedly. "What the heck."

"I mean it," said Jaehyun, rocking back and forth on his feet with way too much energy. Doyoung told him this, and Jaehyun shrugged. "I usually go running before class, but you haven’t been responding to my texts so I came to check on you in person."

Doyoung sighed, his breath barely visible against a backdrop of murky grey. "Well, now you’ve checked, and I’m fine, so let me go back to sl—"

Then, Jaehyun grabbed his wrist. "I’m not letting you go," Jaehyun said, surprisingly serious.

Doyoung closed his eyes and sniffed. He faced the dorm lobby in front of him and could see Jaehyun’s reflection in the glass doors. Jaehyun was staring back at him expectantly, like he was ready to take on any of Doyoung’s biting, critical remarks. Doyoung went ham. "You say that like you know me," he said coolly.

"I know there’s a lot about you I don’t know," Jaehyun replied, and when Doyoung turned back to him, he was met with the most stupidly determined expression he’d ever seen on a college freshman. It was as if Jaehyun valued him more than he valued his education. It was honestly an embarrassing look, but that just proved a little that Jaehyun wasn’t the shallow little brat who just wanted a good lay, at least not 100%. If he were, he probably wouldn’t have come to Doyoung in the first place given Doyoung’s spectacularly coordinated performance at LGBTQ Salsa. "Let me take you out," said Jaehyun.

Doyoung squinted at Jaehyun who was still holding onto him like a pathetic puppy. Puppies were haphazard and did all the wrong things at the wrong times, but things still turned out. "Okay, lead me," said Doyoung, and Jaehyun broke into a happy grin. The way Jaehyun hooked his arm around Doyoung’s waist was rough and too much, and when he pulled him in for a kiss, Doyoung hissed out, "I’m hungry, you ass," but Jaehyun swallowed his words and Doyoung kind of loved it. Jaehyun was sometimes self-contained and sometimes off the radar, and Doyoung wasn’t sure he could wrangle him in if he tried. But it was okay, because for the first time ever, Doyoung kind of didn’t want to.

**Author's Note:**

> This is... that Dojae I promised ages ago. I'm so sorry this took so long to write! I had a hard time piecing everything together and getting back into Doyoung-writing mode, but it was fun in the end. Also I don't know if I can connect this fic to that one without making it an official "series" in Ao3 because these are the only two works, which I don't think much constitutes a series. So I'll just leave it like this for now. Thank you for reading and commenting!


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